Aftermath
by Athelstan
Summary: AU, modern setting. Oneshot. After Enjolras is wounded by a well-aimed brick at a protest, he calls on Grantaire to take him to the ER.


**A/N: Hello! This little baby is the first fic I've written in about a year, so please be gentle with me! (Also, I am very, very new to the Les Mis fandom). Enjoy?**

Aftermath

Three quick raps on the door summoned Grantaire from his slumber. As he was pulling on a pair of pants, the knocks sounded again, louder and more urgent this time.

"Goddamnit, I'm coming!" He grumbled as he pulled the door open. He wasn't really prepared for what was standing there.

Enjolras stood before him, bleeding profusely from his jaw.

"Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to you?" Grantaire asked incredulously. Enjolras held up a bloodstained piece of paper with a message written in a shaky hand.

_I need you to take me to the hospital. I was protesting a few blocks down and someone threw half a brick at me. _

"Fuckin' hell, E. Let me get my keys." Grantaire hurried away, grabbing his wallet and keys. He ushered Enjolras over the threshold of his apartment and down the stairs.

* * *

"Please try not to bleed all over my car." Grantaire joked as he opened Enjolras' door for him. Enjolras narrowed his blue eyes and made a watery grunting noise. Grantaire put the car into drive and gunned it down the street.

"D'you think I'll get in trouble for speeding, seeing as it's an emergency?" R asked.

Enjolras scrawled a quick message on his scrap of paper.

_You speed even if it's not an emergency, you tit. _

Grantaire laughed. "True. Very true."

* * *

The car screeched to a stop outside the Emergency room.

"You go in and I'll park the car." Grantaire said, unlocking the doors. Enjolras stepped gingerly out of the car and made his way slowly towards the sliding doors. Grantaire muttered to himself as he pulled into the closest parking space. He got out, slammed the door and trotted quickly back to the building.

Waiting rooms all looked the same to Grantaire. More often than not, they were coloured with a horrendous palette, usually in various shades of fresh sputum green or infected puss yellow. This one was no different, aside from the fact that some enterprising sod decided to spice up the sinus infection snot colour with streaks of red. To R, it looked like someone with an addiction to cocaine and a terrible flu blew their nose all over the wall. He slumped down into a seat beside a sobbing kid who was cradling his left arm to his chest. Grantaire picked up a magazine about cars and started flicking through it leisurely.

* * *

Soon, the waiting room began to empty. Grantaire peeked at his watch. It had been nearly an hour and a half. He sighed, stood up and walked over to the triage desk.

"Um, hello?" he asked the pretty brunette behind the desk.

She gave him a big smile. "Hello sir. How may I help you?"

"Uh, I brought my friend in here about an hour ago. The one with the mangled jaw?"

"Oh, yes! He's in surgery now."

"Surgery?" R gasped. He knew the wound had been bad, but not bad enough to warrant an operation.

"Of course, sir. He was hit in the exact wrong spot." She clucked her tongue. "Poor dear."

Grantaire shook his head. "How much longer before he's out?"

The young nurse shrugged. "Wish I could tell ya, hon; the damage to his jaw was pretty bad."

R nodded and went back to his seat. He shifted into a more comfortable position and fell asleep.

* * *

"Mister? Are you awake?"

Grantaire groaned groggily and swatted at the direction of the voice. He opened his eyes to see the triage nurse from earlier standing over him.

"Your friend is out of surgery, sir. You can go see him."  
R yawned, popped his back and stretched.  
"He's in room 13 D. Down the hall and to the left." The nurse said.

"Thanks," Grantaire muttered. He hurried down the corridor and opened the door to Enjolras' recovery room.

On the bed, looking uncharacteristically small, lay the man of marble himself. The left side of his face was all packed with cotton, and it made him look like a chipmunk storing all of its nuts in one cheek. R giggled slightly. Enjolras perked up at the sound and raised a gold eyebrow.

"Nothing. How're you feeling?" Grantaire asked, swinging into the seat beside Enjolras' bed.

Enjolras rolled his eyes and scratched out a message on a little notepad.

_I just had my entire lower face rearranged. How do you think I'm feeling?_

R chuckled. "I see you're still a little ray of sunshine."

Enjolras glared. R burst into loud guffaws. He was pretty sure that if E had the faculties right now, he would've smacked him silly. He leaned back, tilting his chair on its back legs. They sat in silence, listening to the bustle of the corridor. R fell into a semi-doze, lulled into a state of barely-there by the soothing sounds of activity.

He was pulled out of his reverie by Enjolras throwing his little pad at him.

_Thanks for the ride. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have made it here on my own. You're a pal, R. _

Grantaire smiled. "No problem. You do owe me, though. If I ever get hit in the face with a brick, _you_ can take me to the hospital."

Enjolras snatched his notepad back and scrawled a quick message.

_Why on earth would you be having bricks thrown at you? Unless you plan on coming out to a protest any time soon, the possibility of such a situation is highly unlikely. _

Grantaire's smile turned into a teasing grin. "If I get to see my fearless leader get hit in the face with things, I might come out more often."

Enjolras whipped the pad at his head, a twinkle of humour in his usually impassive blue eyes. Grantaire laughed and ducked, amazed at what a funny guy his leader could be with a head wound.

* * *

**A/N: That's it, that's the whole show! Just a little fluffy friendship fic to get me back in the habit. **

**If you liked it, please feel free to review!**

**If you hated it, by all means, please tell me! I welcome criticism, as it will ultimately make me a better writer. **

**Ciao for now!**


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